Route 99
by pigwiz
Summary: Missed opportunities and life altering mistakes. NOW WITH AN EPILOGUE! Rated 'T' for language and situations.
1. The Wedding

**OK folks. I got this idea while finishing up 'The Affair'. I'm not really sure how this came to me, since angst is kind of foreign to me, but it did. Forewarning! Remember, its fiction…**

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Route 99

1. The Wedding

**Saturday, June 21 2014**

**2:45 PM**

**Bushwell Plaza**

**The Shay Apartment**

Carly is working on Sam's makeup. It is, after all one of the most important days in Sam's life. Today, at four in the afternoon, Samantha Puckett will wed Fredward Benson. Carly, the Maid of Honor, is already impeccable in her appearance, of course. Carly is nearly finished with Sam though, and she's glad of it. Sam wasn't ever one to like to get 'made up'. She has voiced her opinion regularly over the past hour Carly has been touching up here and there.

Carly's finished… "Stand up, Sam. Let's get a look at you."

Their friend Wendy, a Bride's Maid, steps in the front room of the Shay apartment to help straighten the bride's gown and take a few pictures with her digital camera. The gown is beyond beautiful. It's a Stretch Satin fitted A-line gown featuring delicate braided shoulder straps echoed in triplicate at the empire waist and at the back. Samantha is a vision. Even Sam smiles while looking at her reflection in the mirror.

"Damn" is all she says.

Wendy takes the photo's and reminds them that they should be getting to the church for the official wedding pictures.

"Oh, that's OK" said Sam "I asked the photographer to wait to take the photographs until after the ceremony."

"Oh" Carly and Wendy said, not quite simultaneously.

"Why would you do that?" asked Carly.

"Freddie has ordered a limo for after the wedding. I wanted to get some pictures in it and around it. In fact, he has them picking me up so I don't have to drive his car or mine to the wedding. This way the gown won't wrinkle."

"Oh! Good idea! But we'll need a car, so you're going to wait here by yourself for the limo?" Carly asked.

"That's the plan, Carl's. OK, give me a hug, and you two had better get going! Don't you dare be late to my wedding!"

**Saturday, June 21 2014**

**3:30 PM**

**Philadelphia Church of Seattle**

The Bridegroom and Best Man were fidgety and nervous. Not so much because of the upcoming ceremony, their nerves were due entirely to the Grooms mother, Mrs. Benson, driving them insane. She was re-doing their ties, waistcoats, checking their shoe's polish and a thousand other items. What finally broke the camels back was when Spenser, the Best Man, needed to use the restroom. Mrs. Benson began to follow him in, claiming she didn't want to see the pants get wrinkled.

"MOM! MOM! .THERE! You are not following him into the bathroom. Go out and take your place with the wedding party, we'll be starting soon."

"But Freddie, you might need me for…"

"Mother, go, now please…"

Mrs. Benson gave her son a sad look, turned and went to join the rest of the party waiting in the chapel. As she opened the door, a boy of about twelve or thirteen stood, ready to knock.

"Is there a Fredward Benson in here?" he asked.

"That's him, there." Mrs. Benson replied, pointing out her son.

Freddie looked at the young fellow as he approached.

"Mr. Fredward Benson?" he asked.

"That's me." Freddie said.

"Then this is for you, sir." He said as he gave Freddie an envelope.

Without saying another word, the boy turned and walked out of the room. Fred looked at the envelope, ready to open it, when Spencer came out of the restroom.

"Hey, Freddie, will you chinch this waistcoat back up for me? I can't reach the belts."

Freddie stuffed the envelope in his coat pocket and stepped over to help Spencer.

**Saturday, June 21 2014**

**3:50 PM**

**Philadelphia Church of Seattle**

Freddie and Spencer are still waiting to start, stuck in the anti chamber. Both men still seem a bit nervous, but after all, one of them is the leading man in this production. Carly knocks, and then comes in, looking around the room.

"My, aren't you two handsome! Freddie, what time was the limo supposed to pick up Sam? It's nearly four."

"What limo? You guys got us a limo?"

"No silly, the one you ordered to bring Sam here and for after the ceremony."

Freddie looked confused. He turned to Spencer; "got any idea what she's talking about?"

Spencer shrugged his shoulders, and turned to his sister. Freddie walked over toward her;

"Carly, I didn't order a limo for Sam. We didn't even discuss anything like that. Who told you that?" Freddie asked.

"Sam did, just a while ago. She told Wendy and me both that."

"No…" Freddie mumbled, his face going grey.

He ran out of the small room, through the side doors and out to where his car was parked. He got in his car, and sped away.

Carly sent Spencer to find Freddie's mom, while she waited at the Benson's mini van franticly dialing Sam's then Freddie's number on her cell phone. She dialed again and again, dialing repeatedly. No answer. Mrs. Benson finally arrived with Spenser and they drove back to the apartment building.

They found Freddie sitting on his bed, rocking back and forth, clutching Sam's wedding gown. He was oblivious to them. Mrs. Benson noticed the envelope and note lying on the floor. She picked it up, read it and collapsed in a corner of her son's bedroom. Carly was still trying to get Freddie out of his trance. Spenser picked up the note and read:

_Freddie,_

_I'm so sorry, but I just can't do this right now. I do truly love you, but I can't. I will be back, please wait for me. I promise I'll be back, and I will try to make it up to you._

_Love, Sam_

Freddie looked up at Carly.

"She's gone…" is all he said.

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**This story is going to get very dark soon. If you don't like that type of thing, stop here.**


	2. Seattle Blues

Route 99

2. Seattle Blues

**Saturday, June 21 2014**

**3:15 PM**

**Bushwell Plaza**

**The Shay Apartment**

'What a mess I am. I just can't get married now and settle down. I haven't done anything yet to settle down from! I just hope Freddie realizes what I'm doing is for our own good. I mean, if we married now, before I had a chance to live a little, we wouldn't last. At least, that sounds good at the moment.' Sam thought.

She finishes changing out of her gown and into some comfortable traveling clothes. Next, she removes her engagement ring from her finger and puts it on a silver necklace chain, and puts it around her neck. Grabbing her old canvas backpack, containing everything she owns, she heads down to the parking lot, gets in her truck and leaves. First stop is the 'We Buy Anything' over on Lake City Way. She sold her truck for cash.

'Freddie can trace anything, especially a vehicle. He can't trace me on foot though' Sam said to herself.

After emptying out her bank account yesterday, she should be fine for bus fare. First, she needs to hitchhike out of the State. Two blocks from 'We Buy Anything' is a bus stop. She had twelve minutes to get there. She had worked this out for the last couple weeks, nothing left to chance. No credit cards, no bank accounts, nothing. She had to disappear.

Catching the bus, she rode it to an interchange and caught a bus to the SeaTac Airport. Her cell phone had started going crazy during the first bus ride. Now it was just insane. Seventy eight voice messages, over a hundred text messages and still counting. She turned it off and removed the battery. Arriving at the airport, she entered and went directly to the ladies room. Using one of the stall doors as a clamp, she broke her phone in half. Depositing half of the broken phone in the trash in the rest room, she put the other half in her pocket with the battery. Back outside the terminal, she put the battery in an ashtray. After walking another couple hundred yards she tossed the last half of the destroyed cell phone in a waste basket chained to a pole.

She was free.

A short mile and a half walk to an on ramp for Interstate 5 / US Route 99 and she would be kicking the dust of Seattle off of her boots. It was only a quarter to five. She had planed this taking till five fifteen. She smiled; an entire half hour ahead of schedule, excellent. As she came to the on ramp, she checked her watch, Five ten. Putting her thumb out in the classic style, a truck pulled over at five eighteen.

"Are you going south?" The driver asked.

"Guess so, how far south are you going?" Sam asked.

"Bakersfield, California."

"Well now," Sam said "that's just where I was heading!"

She climbed into the cab. At five twenty in the afternoon she was headed south. She was meant to have been Mrs. Fredward Benson for just over an hour.

**Wednesday, July 2****nd****, 2014**

**7:15 PM**

Fredward Benson was a wreck. He had gone back to work, but his heart wasn't in it. For his entire life he had worked and strived to do the best he could. He had always wanted to work in the emerging technology fields of computer science. One of the hardest and highest paying niches to get into, and he'd made it. He graduated at the top of his class in college. His understanding and creativity, his ability to think 'outside the box' was stunning. He was snatched up immediately after graduation by the prestigious Pear Research Center. He had resigned this afternoon.

A few days ago he had taken a job as a cook trainee in an all night I-Jump restaurant. He starts his new job tomorrow. He had been making just a bit less than half a million a year in salary and bonuses. His new job paid $9.85 an hour, with a ten percent bump for working nights. But he didn't have to think. He didn't want to think.

Summer ended, autumn came and went, the holidays, winter, spring then June. He'd gotten an invitation to a wedding, Carly's. The wedding was June 20th. She had come by his work in late May. She wanted to apologize for having to have her wedding a year to the day after his disaster. She said it was the only time all of her and her fiancés family were available. He's told her that that was fine, it hadn't bothered him, and it really hadn't. He'd only seen Carly a couple times in the past year. He rarely left his apartment except for work, and hardly ever answered his phone. He couldn't even remember Carly's fiancés name. It just didn't matter. He assured her he would be at her wedding, and she gave him a hug. Funny, he thought. Carly was the last woman he had hugged, nearly a year ago. He chuckled to himself and went back into the I-Jump kitchen. He had eggs to scramble.

He took a few days off around the weekend of Carly's wedding. He asked the apartment manager to put his car keys in a safe place. He was able to drink seven bottles of vodka and scotch in a three day period. He didn't even remember who Carly was, let alone that he missed her wedding. Since he rarely drank, he was sick for four days after. He thought he might be, so that's the reason he had taken some time off work.

As is said; 'Time Waits For No Man', and it certainly wasn't going to wait for Freddie Benson. The minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, sped by quickly. On the third anniversary of his ruined wedding, he mailed a note to his mother, and another to Carly. His mothers address was good. He wasn't sure about Carly's. In the notes he thanked each of them for their support. He explained that since Sam had been gone three years, he didn't expect her back. And that Seattle really held nothing for him but bad memories and broken promises. He also explained that Carly and his mother had nothing to do with either of those problems. Then he said goodbye.

**Saturday, June 24****th**** 2017**

**11:05 AM**

By the time they got the letters, he was gone. Sam had done a good job disappearing, Freddie had fallen off the face of the earth. He didn't exist any longer. He was just, gone…

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**Fair warning! The next chapter, gets rough...**


	3. On the road again…

Route 99

3. On the road again…

**Tuesday, April 23****rd**** 2019**

**1:55 PM**

'Wow, it's the same, but different' Sam thinks 'or maybe it's me that's different.' The first place Sam goes after arriving in Seattle is to the Bushwell Apartment Building. The doors are locked… Sam notices a sign saying 'Ring the Bell' and does. Soon, a middle aged man comes to the desk inside and buzzes the door open.

"Can I help you?" he asks.

"No, I'm just here to see some friends, thanks."

"I'm sorry, you'll have to give me their names, and I'll have to ask them if they would like to see you."

Sam noticed the door locks on the stairway and elevator entrances now, realizing she can't get past this point; she turns back to the fellow.

"Ok, I'm here to see either Spenser or Carly Shay or Mrs. Benson. They both have apartments on the eighth floor."

"I'm sorry; none of those people are here any longer. Mrs. Benson left about a year ago. Mr. Spenser Shay left about a year and a half ago. I don't know anyone named Carly."

"Oh, do you know where they went?"

"No, I don't, really. I think Mrs. Benson is somewhere on the East Coast, but I'm not sure. I only know about Mr. Shay in passing. He had moved a bit before I came to work here. I've never met him; I just prepared some shipments of his artwork. Not sure where it went, it was taken away by truck."

Sam thanked the man and left, heading to a local library. She could check the County Recorders Office website. If anyone had gotten married or purchased property, there would be a record of it listed… And there was. Carly had married someone named Wayne Taylor, and now lived in Richmond Beach. A town just north of Seattle.

It wasn't too late, only three in the afternoon. Sam got a bus schedule at the library and found a stop. It was nearly five by the time she arrived about two blocks away from the Mrs. Carly Taylor residence. All the better, Sam thought. If Carly works, she may be home by now. Finding the house, Sam strode up to the door, but hesitated ringing the doorbell, a sudden case of nerves taking hold.

"Can I help you?" A man asked.

Sam nearly jumped a foot high.

"Oh! Hello, you startled me. Yes, Is Carly here?"

"Sorry for the surprise. I was just about to turn on the sprinklers and noticed you coming up the walk. You would have been drenched. Yes, Carly is here, I'm her husband, Wayne. Please follow me, she's around back."

Without returning the introduction, Sam followed Wayne through a covered breezeway connecting the garage to the house. Exiting this led to a covered patio. Carly was sitting at a patio table, reading a magazine.

"Carly" Wayne called "you have company."

Carly looked over, dropped her magazine back onto the table, and stood.

"Well Wayne, did this… Woman introduce herself?" Carly asked.

"Ah, no Carly, she didn't." Wayne answered, glancing at Sam, beside him.

"Oh, of course not, she wouldn't would she. Wayne, meet Samantha Puckett, if that's still her last name. This is the harlot that jilted Freddie at the alter. Would you please make her leave? I don't want to speak with her."

"Carly, I'll go, but please, where is Freddie? I can't find him. Internet searches come back empty, Pear has no records, where is he. I came back, I said I would. I came back to marry him."

Carly stared, hard. It seemed she was looking right through Sam.

"You came back to marry Freddie? Oh, that's rich. You broke that man, my best friend, and supposedly, the love of your life. He waited for you for three years, gave up, and left. No one knows where he went. Now, get out of my sight, you disgust me."

Carly turned on her heel, and went into the house. Wayne, gestured toward the way they came in, and followed her out to the sidewalk.

"Samantha, look, Fred did indeed take off a couple of years ago. I really would tell you where he went if I knew, but I don't. No one does. He just fell off the face of the earth. He left Pear Research just after you left. He had been a cook at I-Jump restaurants when he left. That's all I know."

"Look Wayne, I don't want to disturb you, or Carly. Anyone for that matter… All I want to do is find Freddie. Can you get Spenser and Mrs. Benson's phone numbers for me, please?"

"Ok, look, here is my business card, call me tomorrow, but don't call here, and don't come by."

With that, he turned and left her standing on the sidewalk. It was getting dark, and cold.

She made her way back to the bus stop, and rode the bus up to where there were truck stops. Lynnwood was a good choice. She found a seedy motel, cheap. And got some rest. Tomorrow would either be very busy or she would be leaving this area. No sense staying here. The weather was better in the southern portions of California.

Sleep was not constant at this place. The local hookers were really working this place, and it seemed every couple hours somebody was banging on her door wanting to know how much for how long. Other times asking if she wanted a hit of crack. It finally dawned on Sam that the room must have a cam… Great, just fucking great. Pretty soon she would be the star of some other internet porn site so perv's could watch her change clothes. She wanted a shower, but was sure that would end up plastered all over the internet as well. Checking the bathroom walls, she found two cams, and covered them both. At least she was able to get cleaned up. She left early in the morning.

She found a bus stop, and asked about the nearest Malmart. Finding one, she purchased a Go-Phone and extra time. She might need a phone, and this was easier than trying to find a phone booth nowadays. Seeing an I-Jump restaurant in the mall's parking area, she decided to have breakfast, and maybe get some information about Freddie. The food was fair, but the information was lacking. No one had even heard of Freddie Benson, last known to be a cook at I-Jump's.

It was a bit after nine, late enough to call Wayne at his work. She called, and got the numbers for Spencer and Mrs. Benson. Spencer first, she thought, he answered on the third ring. They had chatted for about thirty seconds before he said:

"Ya know Sam, what you did was really bad. It pretty much destroyed Freddie. I don't know where he is, nobody does. I really don't want to have this conversation with you. You really disappointed me; I thought you were better than that. Don't call again, please."

'click'

So much for Spencer, she thought. Amazingly, Freddie's mother spoke to her in a sane, lucid fashion. No screaming, no accusations or admonitions, just concern. Not so much concern for her, but for her son. Freddie's mother didn't have a clue where he was, and hadn't heard from him in over two years. Sam did promise to let her know if she found out anything, and Mrs. Benson promised likewise.

There wasn't much more to be done here. She still loved Freddie, but she just didn't want to do the needle in a haystack thing. She'd had a job as a waitress in Bakersfield. The truckers tipped well… Might as well head back now being a little older, a little wiser… She was fairly numb to the heartbreak. She had pretty much suppressed the waves of sadness and misery that had haunted her the last few years. She imagined herself wrapped in heartache. Like a sheer wedding gown… maybe the only gown she would ever own. Unconsciously, her fingers toyed with the engagement ring hanging from its necklace chain… It was all she had of his.

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**Ok, since you've read down this far, you must have an opinion of where you would like to see this story go… It's up to you, gentle reader. I've got two and some change ideas about how this can go. I'll bend to the will of the votes in the reviews, be it one vote or one hundred. One way to end this is dark, and I mean loathsome. The other way is happy yippee happy. You don't get details though. That would be like putting a micro mini on the school slut. Why bother showing it off if all the boys have been already. I could do both endings; I guess that's four categories to vote on then.**

**1: Dark & Loathsome**

**2: Happy happy**

**3: Somewhere in the middle**

**4: Both 1 and 2**

**I'll check the numbers on Thursday morning. You just won't know when morning is, in my perspective!**

**Pick it, pilgrim!**


	4. Tiretracks

Route 99

4. Tiretracks

**Tuesday, July 18****th ****2017**

**4:15 AM**

Freddie was riding a Greyhound Bus, heading north. After leaving Seattle, he had ridden the bus to Anaheim, California. He had checked himself into one of the dozens of hotels located on Harbor Boulevard and taken himself to Disneyland. He'd had more fun than he'd had in years. Unfortunately, it just made him lonely… He had stopped two women, blonds that could have been Samantha Puckett from behind. Of course, they weren't.

He had more money than he knew what to do with. He had cashed out his retirement from Pear Research, but he was bored, so decided to get a job. He knew how to cook, so… He explored Los Angeles and greater Southern California. He didn't like it, the people were nice enough, but he wanted something a little (or a lot) smaller. This place made Seattle seem like a village.

From here he could go east, toward Las Vegas or north. Going north provided two routes to choose from if he was going to be a cook in a café. I-5 split off from US Route 99 just north of 'The Grapevine'. The infamous mountain pass separating Central California and Southern California. I-5 traveled north along the coast range of hills, while Route 99 went straight up the Central Valley. There was hardly any population along the I-5 corridor. The Route 99 corridor was dotted with farming communities large and small all the way to Sacramento, and beyond. So, it looked like Route 99 was the way to go. Boarding the Bus at 3:50 AM, he had about a two hour trip until they would stop just south of Bakersfield for breakfast. That's good, he was hungry.

Freddie napped on and off for the first leg of the trip, waking up completely when the bus came to a stop at a huge Soaring T truck stop. He'd been in these types of places before. The food served in these corporate restaurants was generally barely edible as far as he was concerned. Also, while seeming to be clean on the surface, they rarely stood the test he had in mind for food preparation areas. The name of this place was 'The Cookery'. He thought he'd just pass. Going into the quasi grocery store attached to the mega truck stop, he purchased a small bag of apples and two bananas. This and the water he had in his backpack should keep him going until he could get something decent to eat.

**Tuesday, July 18****th ****2017**

**4:45 AM**

Sam's shift started in fifteen minutes. She was a little tired this morning. She hadn't got to bed until midnight. Four hours sleep was not quite enough by a long shot. She was a little short on cash again this month, so she had 'entertained' last night. It wasn't something she had to do often, but when the need arose, it was good to know that she had that to keep herself afloat. The day went along pretty normally. The Greyhound bus arrived at six, as usual. Not as many passengers today, she noticed. At around six forty five she looked up to see the bus pulling out. Wow, there's another one… Sitting next to the window on the departing bus was another guy that looked just like Freddie. That had happened to her a lot since she had taken this job at the 'The Cookery'. Many times she had run out to see for sure, only to be disappointed. She had given up on that nonsense. Even though this guy really looked like Freddie. What were the odds of that happening?

**Tuesday, July 18****th ****2017**

**7:45 AM**

About a half hour north of Bakersfield, Fred had pulled out a map of California. He was tracing Route 99 with his finger, all those cities and towns… Bakersfield, Tulare, Fresno, Madera, Merced, Turlock, Modesto, Manteca, Stockton, Lodi, Elk Grove, Sacramento… And those were just the larger ones. Dozens of smaller towns dotted the map in between. His bet was that in one of those medium sized places, he'd find a spot to settle in. His ticket was good up as far as Redding, north of Sacramento. He started looking in Tulare, too small. Fresno was a bit too big. All those 'M' towns were small-ish, Turlock as well. Stockton was a tad too big, but Lodi… Besides, like that old song. He could be stuck in Lodi. He got off at the bus stop there Tuesday evening and got a motel room. By Friday he had a job cooking at a mom and pop diner located right on the freeway. Yep, 'Earl's Diner' looked like it just might be the place. The owners, Earl and his wife, Stella were good people. The same went for the folks that worked for them. The only reason he got hired was he was willing to work the night shift, since the former day cook just retired and the night cook was switching to days. This could really work out, he thought.

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**Alrighty then you lovely people. Soon I'll be posting chapter five. I may be able to finish it with that, we'll see…**

**Go ahead, press the button there…**

**Give me some of those tear stained comments.**


	5. Halloween Heartache

Route 99

5. Halloween Heartache

**Thursday, September 14th ****2017**

**3:00 AM**

Fred liked Lodi… The place was perfect in his eyes. Not too big, not to small, just right. He also liked Earl and Stella and the staff they had acquired. Nadine and Nora, the 'N's they called themselves, were the night waitresses. Both of the women were in their late 50's and married to retirees. Nadine's husband had a career in the Marine Corps, retiring with the rank of Sergeant. Nora's better half was a retired Sacramento Police Officer. The husbands tended to hang out at the diner for most of the night talking and joking with the regular customers and the truckers that stopped in. Freddie fit right in. The nights flew by. So did the months and years.

**Sunday, August 4th ****2019**

**6:00 AM**

Earl and Stella had asked all the long term employees to come to a breakfast meeting at their apartment located above the diner. Fred, having been there for a bit over two years had been invited as well. Much to the dismay of all, Earl and Stella announced their planned retirement and the opportunity to purchase the restaurant and property. Everyone at the table was silent for a moment, until Fred spoke up…

"I may be interested, when could we discuss the details?"

Within a week, the papers were drawn up. Ownership would transfer to Fredward Benson on the first day of September, 2019. Earl and Stella had owned some property in Nevada for a number of years. They moved, soon Fred was living in the upstairs apartment above his diner. He did some slight remodeling of his living space, but didn't change a thing as far as his employees were concerned. Why screw with something that worked? The Head Waitress on days got a nice raise and now she was the Day Manager / Head Waitress. Freddie stayed on nights and cooked and did the ordering. Earl and Stella had set up a business that ran like a well oiled machine, why fix something that wasn't broken… The place worked.

**Thursday, October 31****st ****2019**

**11:55 AM**

The Hostess at 'The Cookery' glanced over to Sam, who nodded. She then proceeded to seat these arriving customers at one of Sam's tables. Sam paid the Hostess under the table every day. This insured the known 'good tips' from the local regulars and regular truck drivers were seated in Sam's area. Sam knew how to play the game… She immediately remembered this husband and wife truck driving couple. They lived somewhere in the mid west. They hauled cargo from there to Southern California, and then picked up loads here and there to take north or back east. The woman was black coffee, while her husband was iced tea. Without asking, she took both beverages by the table, greeted them and had their ordered drinks ready, as if by magic. The couple ordered lunch, then chatted with Sam for a bit, the wife, Lora, had been a fan of the old iCarly webshow. Her husband, Harley had seen it, but wasn't as interested. Suddenly, Lora asked;

"So, do you ever see the others, Carly and Fred? We've talked to Fred a couple of times. Just last night in fact. I keep meaning to tell him we see you, but I keep forgetting."

Harley nodded his head, "Yep Sam, She told me to remind her to tell Fred that yesterday, but Hell, I forgot myself!"

Sam stood there, pretending to jot something on her order pad… attempting to regain her composure…

"So, um… You've talked to Freddie?" Sam asked, redundantly.

"Well sure hun, at his diner just south of Sacramento. What town is that in Harley?"

"Lodi, Earl's Diner in Lodi. Can't miss it, it's right on the 99. He's there every night, ever since he bought the place about a couple months back. We saw him for just a minute last night. Them old hens he's got working there… what the 'L's? the 'R's? what do they go by Lora?"

"It's the 'N's Harley, Nora and Nadine"

"Yea, that's it. The 'N's… Anyway Sam, they say he's working every night now. He's been there two or three years now… Great food, huh Lora."

Lora nods her head while Sam makes excuses and gets their order turned in. She gets Harley and Lora's order correct, but the rest of her shift was mistake after mistake. Finally, she told her shift boss she wasn't feeling well and would like to go home…

"Sure Sam" he said "I can tell, you've never made this many errors in a month, let alone two hours… Go ahead and take off. Let me know how you're doing later in case we have to call someone to cover your shift, ok?"

Sam thanked him and left. She had an on again, off again man friend, it seemed it was on again at the moment. At least he thought so. He was parked in front of her apartment. She opened the door to find him lying on her couch watching television.

"Sorry Norm, get whatever stuff you have left here and get out."

"But Sam, it's Halloween; we're supposed to go to Jill and Tony's for their party tonight. What's wrong?"

"I'm wrong, you're wrong, everything is wrong… Just go, OK? Just leave." She said.

Norm was used to a few insanities from this woman, but this was different. He collected the few items of his from the apartment and went to the door.

"Sam, what did I do?"

"Nothing Norm, it's me. Really. My past just came and bit me in the ass, and that's the truth."

"Shall I call you later, Sam?"

"No, don't call Norm, don't call…"

Her hands were shaking, she felt lightheaded, and she knew Norm had nothing to do with it. She sat down at the kitchen table and called information. She wrote down the number carefully and dialed.

"Earl's Diner, can you hold just a moment?" The woman that answered had asked a question, but placed the phone on a table before Sam could answer. Sam could hear the hustle and bustle of a busy, working restaurant in the background.

"Alright, sorry to have to put the phone down for a moment, what can I do for you?" The woman asked.

"Um… Can I speak with Freddie Benson please?"

"Well sure darlin', oh, it's just three o'clock. We don't call him to get him up till around five. Do you mind calling back or should I send your call upstairs and wake him now?"

"Oh, no… I can call back. I'm doing an article on early webshows. Is this the same Freddie Benson from the old iCarly webcast?" Sam asked.

"It sure is hun… He's got so much computer stuff up in his apartment, my my, its just everywhere. That boy needs a gal! " The woman laughed "Well, I really have to run. You call him back later this evening and he'll tell you all about that stuff. Bye now…"

Sam said her goodbyes, and hung up. She needed a drink, a shower and, and… Shit, what should she do now? She thought.

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**OK, I guess it won't be done with this chapter... I decided to flesh it out just a tad more. **

**Never forget!**

**A revue is better than glue!**


	6. Four Hours

Route 99

6. Four Hours

**Thursday, October 31****st**** 2019**

**6:00 PM**

"Freddie is four hours north of here" Sam thought. "Just four hours by car."

She looked at the clock beside her bed, just six. She could be standing in front of him; she could be holding him by around ten. If he still wanted her. Would he take her back? Would he get angry and throw her out. God, why did I ever leave? Why is he a cook? He could barely make toast, a cook?

She had poured herself a glass of wine a couple hours ago. It sat untouched on her kitchen counter. She had showered, got dressed, and now finished putting her shoes on. Converse, always Converse…

She sat, staring at the walls for a moment or two, sighed, and got up. Slipping on her coat, grabbing her pocketbook and keys, she made her way to her car. Suddenly, she stopped, and retraced her steps to her apartment. Entering her bedroom, she opened the top drawer of her small vanity and removed the silver necklace that looped through the gold engagement ring. "I haven't worn this in a very long time" she thought as she returned to her car.

**Thursday, October 31****st****2019**

**7:00 PM**

Pete Sanchez stepped into the back door of Earl's Diner, walking up the short hallway past the restrooms and into the kitchen.

"Hey, amigo!" Pete said.

"Hey back, Pete, you ready for dinner, buddy? I put this steak out for you, If you want." said Fred.

Pete and Mary Sanchez owned the Ezy Street Motel two doors down from the diner. Pete was a Lodi native, while Mary was from Phoenix. She had been gone a few days, visiting her family back home. The normal routine was for Pete to eat with Fred while Mary was out of town.

"Oh, man… That steak looks way to good, yeah. It's huge! We're going to split it, aren't we Fred?"

"That's the plan… Check out the chili tonight. I added a little extra onion… mmmm"

Fred started to fry the steak while they discussed the older, established mom and pop grocery store and gas station that was located between their businesses. They had been discussing purchasing the store and running it as partners.

They got their meals together and carried their plates out to the dining room in the restaurant. The afternoon shift of waitresses was just getting off work, while the night shift was coming on. They all laughed and joked while Fred and Pete ate. Fred only ate 'out front' when Pete was with him. It felt funny having the waitresses serve him.

**Thursday, October 31****st**** 2019**

**8:00 PM**

Sam checked her gas gauge… quarter tank. I might as well fill up in Fresno; looks like it should have about a thousand gas stations lining the freeway. She pulled over at an off ramp that advertised a gas station and an Inside Out restaurant. After finishing filling the car, she drove across the street to the burger place. She ordered and collected her food. She sat at a corner table and stared at the burger and fries. Her stomach was doing flips. She drank the coffee and continued to stare at the food… As if trying to force her stomach to settle down enough so she could eat. Eventually she gave up and left. Her GPS showed it should take another two hours. Two more hours, she was terrified.

**Thursday, October 31****st**** 2019**

**9:00 PM**

Pete had left over an hour ago. The gal he had watching the motel had to get home to her kids. Besides, even though he ate most of his meals with Fred, he still had a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. Mary would be home the day after tomorrow, so the kitchen had to be clean by then. He'd catch seven kinds of hell if it wasn't. Then he had to finish his book keeping. Fred had set them up with a great computerized accounting system. Now it only took about three or four hours to do the monthly books. It used to take three of four days.

Fred was busy tonight. There were lots of locals and truck drivers here. He had a good meatloaf special tonight. At the rate he was dishing it up, he might run out. He was also running low on gravy. He had decided to make more gravy, but the meatloaf would take to long. Maybe it would last…

Sam had to pull off the road just north of Merced, her stomach was bad. She was afraid she would vomit.

**Thursday, October 31****st**** 2019**

**10:00 PM**

Sam had to pull off the road again just south of Stockton. Her hands were shaking so badly she was afraid she may have an accident. She got out of her car and walked around for a while. There was a sign up ahead that read 'LODI 15 MILES'.

Pete was looking for the receipt set from the tenth… They must be misfiled. Unfortunately, he couldn't blame anyone but himself! He grinned…

It looked like Fred would be ok with the meatloaf and gravy. That other pot of fresh gravy was just finished. The kitchen smelled great! The place was still busy.

**Thursday, October 31****st**** 2019**

**10:40 PM**

There it was, a big neon sign just off the freeway proclaiming "EARL'S DINER". The off ramp was just beyond the diner. She pulled off the freeway and turned right onto the frontage road. The place was really busy; she pulled into the parking lot and found a space in the second row facing the diner. She parked, turned off the engine and sat for a moment. Then she was him… Oh god there he was… He'd come around from the kitchen to talk to one of the customers. All the time she had spent since leaving the Shay's apartment suddenly replayed through her mind. All that time wasted, gone. She melted into tears… She couldn't cry now, she told herself. She at least had to look halfway decent if she was going to talk to him… God, what had she done… why? Were the last few years of 'freedom' worth it? Freedom? Freedom from what? Freedom from the only man that had ever loved her unconditionally, and that she had loved back? .IDIOT. She was really sobbing now, and was afraid she would call attention to herself. She started the car and pulled over to a corner of the parking lot that was less used, nearly empty in fact.

This just wouldn't do… She got a bottle of water and some tissue and straightened herself up. Next, she called her boss and let them know that she would need a couple days off. It was nearly eleven now, Sam was really tired. There was a motel less than fifty yards away. A few hours sleep and a shower would do her a world of good. She had packed clothes for a couple days, just in case.

She drove the short distance to the Ezy Street Motel. She grinned at the little monopoly figure that was incorporated into the sign. Going into the office, she waited a moment for the clerk to appear. When he did, he did a quick double take, and then continued on with the registration form and polite conversation. Sam thought he must have noticed she had been crying, but was too polite to mention it. She paid cash and got her room on the ground floor. Moving her car just around the corner, she was able to park directly in front of the room. She only had the one small bag; she was settled in the room in moments. That's when she realized just how tired she was. She lay on the top of the bed and was asleep in seconds.

**Thursday, October 31****st**** 2019**

**11:15 PM**

Pete stared out the window at the retreating blond. He knew exactly who she was. Fred had told he and Mary all about the wedding and Sam Puckett's disappearance. Heck, Pete had been a fan of the old webshow. He and Mary had sat for hours in Fred's apartment and watched the out takes and mistakes that Fred had kept. He wasn't sure if this woman was here to fix the mistake or just passing through. He didn't know what to do, though. He called Mary, and explained the situation.

"Estupido! Go get Fred! Do you have the tape running? Play it for him. Make sure it's the right woman. Hurry, go get him and let him decide."

"Ok Mary, thanks… Love you."

"Love you back Pete, call me and tell me what happens! Now go get Fred."

Fred had just worked through another rush of customers. Wow, nearly eleven thirty. Tonight had sure gone fast…

"Hey buddy…" Pete said from the kitchen doorway.

"Hi Pete, what are you doing out goofing off this late?" Fred said smiling.

"Um, you got a minute? I need you to see something over at the office."

"What's the matter, you look… well it must be important. You OK Pete?"

"Yeah, I'm good… c'mon though."

Fred shrugged and called his swamper over from washing dishes to take over the kitchen. The two men walked to the motel, through the lobby and into the office. Pete rewound the surveillance tape that recorded everyone that came in through the lobby door.

"Sit down bud, watch the tape…" Pete said

Fred sat on the edge of the desk, Pete pressed play. The image came on the screen. The lobby door… suddenly a ghost of an image was playing on the monitor. She was walking toward the door, then opening it. Fred stood suddenly, eyes glued to the screen… Very quietly Fred asked his friend to rewind the tape and play that over. Pete did, and reached over to his desk and removed a registration form.

"Fucking hell, is that…" Freddie started to say.

Pete gave the form to Fred… He read it.

Room 114 was occupied by a Ms. S. Puckett of Bakersfield, California.

* * *

**Hi folks… OK, I still haven't decided how I'm going to end this. I know, I took the vote, but…**

**Review: Remind me again why I want to end it your way!**

**Is that a cheesy way to get reviews, or what?**

**Press the buton!**


	7. Disneyland

Route 99

7 Disneyland

**Thursday, October 31****st ****2019**

**11:55 PM**

Fred stood in front of the door to room 114. The woman behind this door had destroyed his life. He was happy here, but maybe he would have been happy if he was still at Pear. "Why am I even doing this" he mumbled to himself. Well… He knocked.

No answer.

He knocked.

No answer.

He knocked.

The door swung open slowly, as far as the chain would let it. He heard a gasp, and the door closed.

"Sam, open the door, please."

The door opened again, Sam stood back out of the way and gestured with her arm for him to enter. She looked tired, apprehensive. He put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Hi Sam" he said softly. Continuing into the room, he sat in one of the chairs at the table beside the bed. Fred had a small paper bag, two glasses and an ice bucket. He placed them on the table.

She sat in the chair across the table from him. Freddie opened the bag and removed a half pint of vodka, a half pint of bourbon and a small container of orange juice.

"Screwdriver, Sam?"

She nodded yes. He mixed the ingredients, and added ice, and pushed the glass across the table to her. He poured himself a double and a half of bourbon, straight. He picked up his glass and gave a toast.

"To old times…"

Sam raised her glass and connected hers with his. They 'clinked'.

"Sorry I woke you. How have you been, Sam?"

"OK, you?"

"Worse, better… Depends on the day I guess. Pete, the guy that owns the motel told me you were here. The diner two doors down is mine, I live there, in the apartment above it."

"Alone?" She asked.

Fred looked at her, then down at his drink… "Yep, alone. What about you?"

"I'm in Bakersfield. I've been there since… Well, since I left. I'm a waitress at a truck stop just south of town."

"Are you alone?" He asked.

"Yes, alone."

Fred nodded… "Look, if you expected to come up here, and smile at me and want to pick up where we left it, or, to be more precise, where you left it… Not going to happen."

Sam looked at Freddie, expressionless, and nodded. She took another sip of her screwdriver, reached behind her neck and pulled the silver chain out, and released the clasp. She laid the necklace and ring on the table, and pushed it over toward Freddie.

Fred stared at the ring for a moment, and then picked it up. He held the chain at arms length, looking at the ring.

"Still got this, huh…" He said while standing.

She nodded, watching him stand. His face looked grim. He laid the necklace and ring back on the table.

Fred stood in front of her, and took her hands. "Stand up, Sam."

He gave her a hug, and a lopsided smile, stepped back and over to the door. Opening the door, he turned back to Sam and pulled a necklace chain with their wedding rings attached to it out from under his shirt.

"I've still got these also. You better hold on to that engagement ring, you'll probably need it before long, Sam. And, um… are you busy tomorrow? Have you ever been to Disneyland?"

* * *

**Well now folks**

**That's it!**

**Thanks gobs to seddiefan09 for her advice and input**

**Oh, yeah... Thanks to you for reading this drivel!**

**Let me know how I did, good or bad**

**either way won't make me sad**

**I really want to hear from you**

**so hurry, quick, please review!**

**(yea, a very lame poem...)**


	8. Epilogue

**Due to some down right ankle biting and near threats from some, and gentle nudges from others, here is the epilogue. =D**

* * *

Route 99

7. Epilogue

Sam and Freddie did go to Disneyland. That trip was the beginning of a relationship that involved allot of driving for nearly a year.

During that time, Pete and Mary Sanchez entered into a partnership with Freddie involving the grocery store separating the diner and the motel.

The two couples often went to Cambria California's Moonstone Beach to unwind and escape the summer heat of the San Joaquin Valley. During one of these weekends, while walking from their motel down to the beach, Freddie asked Sam if she was wearing her necklace. She showed him she was.

"Want to put it back on, Puckett?"

"Are you asking me to marry you, Benson?"

"Yep, I am… Would you marry me Sam?"

"Oh, ok… if we must…" She grinned, and stopped to kiss him.

Hand in hand they continued their stroll down to the beach and noticed a large bonfire.

"Fred, is that Pete and Mary there at the fire?"

"Uh huh, looks like 'em." Freddie said.

"Who are those others with them?"

"Let's go find out, Sam."

The couple walked up to the fire, as they approached a man walked over to them.

"You're Samantha Pucket?" He asked Sam.

"It's Sam, but yes I am."

"Do you have any ID?" The man asked.

Before Sam could make a sound, Fred took Sam's drivers' license from his shirt pocket. The fellow looked at the picture and then at Sam.

"OK! Great! That's all the State of California needs. Ms. Puckett, sign on the line please." He said showing Sam a signature line on a form.

"What the… Fred, this is a marriage license application!"

"Are you going to sign it or not, Sam…" Fred asked.

She took the fellows ink pen, and signed her name. Before the ink was dry, the fellow started a preamble ending with the questions:

"Do you take…"

In about a minute, they were married.

"What the hell was that, Benson?" Sam asked.

Pete and Mary were laughing, and opening a bottle of champagne.

"I believe it's called an ambush, Mrs. Benson. Do you have any problems with that?" Fred grinned.

"Not really… Too late now anyway, isn't it Mr. Benson." She said as she kissed him.

* * *

**OK!**

**Now, it's REALLY finished!**

**;D**

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**Help stamp out the common cold, review please!**


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